Repression
by il labirinto
Summary: Repression is another well-known defense mechanism. Repression acts to keep information out of conscious awareness. However, these memories don't just disappear; they continue to influence our behavior.


Disclaimer: Nope, still just a middle classed 16 year old girl who doesn't own Teen Titans.

Author's Note: Taking a small break from Starfire's Plan but will update soon! Meanwhile, here's an uber depressing Terra one-shot with fragments of her life after being released from stone.

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><p><em>Repression is another well-known defense mechanism. Repression acts to keep information out of conscious awareness. However, these memories don't just disappear; they continue to influence our behavior. <em>

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><p>"What are you looking at?"<p>

Blue eyes glanced up. Their owner blinked blankly at the girl standing next to her before the cerulean orbs flitted away. A tall T-shaped building across the bay stood mockingly in front of her. She clenched her eyes shut and shuddered. Images flashed rapidly in the back her eyelids and her eyes snapped open.

"Nothing," The blonde turned towards her friend and smiled softly. Memories pushed against the back of her skull, trying to reach the forefront of her mind. She ignored them. "Nothing at all."

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><p>"<em>Slade was right, you don't have any friends."<em>

The words caused her heart to stutter. The lean girl tripped, papers flying in the air, textbooks dropping to the floor. She fell to her knees in the middle of the hallway, ignoring the curious glances fellow students sent her way. Gripping her head between her hands, the school girl bit her lip tightly between her teeth. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth from the sheer force her teeth exerted on the poor appendage.

A barrage of moments flashed before her tightly clenched eyelids, pushing against the strong barrier she installed in her mind. The sights pushed and heaved and punched and beat the mental wall until the girl dropped to the floor completely in exhaustion. A yell went down the corridor, students and teachers surrounding the blonde curled up on the floor.

It took her a moment to realize the scream had been torn from her own throat.

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><p>"You haven't been eating."<p>

"I don't see why you care about my eating habits."

The scraping of utensils against porcelain plates rang in her ears. An image appeared before her randomly, one of a tall black boy with half of his body covered in mechanics eating pizza fervently, as if it were his last meal. A high-pitched yet clearly male laugh echoed across her skull, her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage in response to the gleeful sound. Her forehead broke out in sweat and she dropped the fork she had been using to push the uneaten meal on her plate.

"Are you okay?"

Blue eyes flitted to meet worried brown ones. Her heart slowed down in disappointment. For some reason she had been hoping to meet glimmering emerald ones.

"Fine," She picked up the fork and stabbed the fruit on her plate. "Why wouldn't I be?"

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><p>She wiped her hand against the foggy surface of the mirror. Leaning with her hands against the sink, the blonde stared at her reflection.<p>

A deathly pale face stared back at her. The girl in the reflection haunted her. No color blossomed against her young face. Long golden locks fell against the sides of her face in a tangled, wet mess. A small nose above rose colored lips. Wide sapphire eyes framed with thick dark lashes. A wide forehead. A sprinkling of freckles across the porcelain cheeks.

Her reflection would be pretty, maybe even beautiful, if it weren't for the empty look in her eyes.

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><p>"<em>I know your secret, little girl."<em>

_No no no, how could he know? He doesn't, he's lying, he's a liarliarliarliar. Fuck what does he want from me, it wasn't my fault, it really wasn't, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never meant to kill those people, why can't I be normal-_

Her eyes snapped open. She took a deep breath before bolting up from her bed, leaning her forehead against the palms of her hands. Her hair was matted to her skull. She felt dirty and disgusting and vile and sick and violated-

She pushed the covers off her thin form and stood from the small bed. Blank eyes darted across the room and she took wide steps towards the door. The skinny teenager pulled the door open before making her way to the bathroom across the hall. Opening the door, she flicked on the lights and the bathroom lit up. She stripped herself of all clothing before walking into the shower and turning it on. The cold water stabbed against her skin before she turned the dial to heat it up. The teenager pressed her forehead against the tiles of the shower, her shoulders shaking as she fought against the onslaught of images trying to be released. Her sobs echoed against the small bathroom, tears mixing in with the water from the shower.

"What's happening to me?" She whispered.

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><p>"The girl you want me to be is just a memory."<p>

Walking away from hurt forest green eyes, the blonde felt a pang in her chest. _Traitor, traitor, traitor._ The word burned into her mind, imprinting itself against each inch of the surface of her body. _You broke his heart again, why can't you do anything right you ungrateful bitch, you're just a big fuck-up, stupid little parasite, why-_

The girl slammed the door to the girl's bathroom open, the sound of it hitting the wall, causing the other girls in the facility to jump. One look into the blonde's empty eyes caused them all to scatter away from the bathroom. The scrawny teenager locked the door after the last girl exited. She leaned her back against the surface of the door and slid down. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she rested her forehead against her them.

_Soft green hair flowing against the wind. Glittering emerald eyes. A loud, high-pitched laugh causing her heart to race. Strong arms covered in black and purple spandex holding her tightly. A handsome face with green skin leaning in towards hers, nearing to close the gap between their lips._

A sob broke through the air as the small blonde gripped her hair tightly in her fists.

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><p>"Tara, we're...worried about you."<p>

"Are you now?"

The blonde in question sighed. She set down on her book on the table and glanced at the only two friends she made in school. Their words had broken the silence in the library, causing the librarian to gaze at them in irritation.

"You're being so quiet. Ever since that green freak showed up, you've been even worse than you were before! You've had two more breakdowns in school since that time you just dropped in the middle of the hallway and that isn't normal! You need help, Tara."

Blue eyes stared unblinkingly at the brunette. Tara cocked her head to the side, locks of golden hair falling to cover half of her pale face. Her gaze caused her two intervening friends to cross their arms across their chest uncomfortably.

"The only thing I need is space," She licked her bottom dry lip. "And don't call him a freak."

She picked up her things from the table, ignoring the questioning glances her friend were giving her. She slung her bag onto her shoulder and walked out of the library without a second glance.

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><p>Tara picked up the silver butterfly clip laying innocently on her bedside table. Chewing her lip to a nub, she turned the pretty thing over and over again in her hands. She wondered why the thing meant so much to her. Why it pulled at her heartstrings, making her feel sad and angry and happy and young and free and confined all at the same time.<p>

_Needles pricking the surface of her soft skin. A cry from a boy near to her that looked so similar, yet different to her. A cry for Brion. Flashing yellow eyes. Fearfearfear, aching and pulsating and flowing through every single vein in her body. _

She set the clip back down on the surface and threw herself onto the bed. Curling up against the white comforter, Tara wondered what was better: remembering and feeling every ounce of regret and pain or continuing to fight against the very things that had once made up the very fabric of her character.

She closed her eyes. She didn't want to remember.

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><p>Author's note: What is wrong with me? Ahhh.<p>

Review with constructive criticism please. Sorry for the angst. .


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